


Second Chances

by CosmicCthulhu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chance Meetings, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, F/M, Mild Blood, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:07:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28901619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicCthulhu/pseuds/CosmicCthulhu
Summary: Hermione didn’t expect to find Malfoy in the middle of muggle London, but she found him anyway.And when unfortunate things happen, she spends a day thinking about him. Wishing she could have done something different to help him.And maybe she gets the opportunity to do so.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

> This short fic was inspired by this beautiful animation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_rIBbhymIzw
> 
> I appreciate all comments and kudos I get!
> 
> English is not my first language, and this work is unbeta'd so all errors are my own.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

Hermione was in a good mood.

She was dancing and singing along the cheerful melody that was playing her little blue radio while she absentmindedly wrote down the necessary ingredients for the Christmas dinner she was going to make next week.

She smiled at the thought her friends gathered around at her cozy flat in a lively party, exchanging gifts and stories with each other, just as they always did ever since the war ended years ago.

Just as she penned down the last item of her grocery list, the song gradually faded away, giving way for the commercial break with the peppy radio host’s voice announcing the time. The brunette turned off the device and summoned her coat and scarf with a silent and wandless spell, and soon she was stepping outside her little flat in muggle London, making her way to the store nearby with a skip on her step.

The witch wouldn’t dare to say that London was the most beautiful city in the world, not even the best mood in the world would fool someone into believing that!

But there was something comforting and even charming about her little stroll to the store, even if she was just watching the other people on the street going on about their day ( _either for work or late gift-shopping_ ), walking at their own pace ( _hurried or leisurely_ ) or talking to someone else on their phones ( _with smiles or scowls_ ).

Soon enough, she reached her destination and waved an energetic ‘ _hello_ ’ at the jovial store clerk through the glass just as she approached the entrance, but before she could even grab the handle, the door suddenly opened with another figure trying to make their way out of the store.

She crashed into the tall and broad man, and gasped in surprise as he scrambled to get a proper hold of his own purchases. Hermione muttered a meek ‘ _I’m sorry,_ ’ and she heard only an angry groan in response. 

When she looked up, she let out yet another gasp in shock, realizing that the surly man she had just stumbled upon was none other than Draco Malfoy himself. He glared silently at her, and she had never really noticed just how _silver_ and _brilliant_ his greys eyes were before. 

They would be beautiful, if they didn’t belong to a man that was currently snarling at her.

With a slight shove, he pushed her to the side and continued walking into the London streets while she ran inside the shop so that she could return home quickly. Thankfully, the shop was pretty empty and she didn’t have a lot to buy anyway and soon her mind started to wander into her typical daydreams, though this time her thoughts seemed to have been influenced by her most recent ( _and almost unnerving_ ) interaction.

She hadn’t seen Malfoy in years. The man had completely disappeared from the wizarding world as soon as all the war trials had ended.

He looked healthier and stronger now, and even more handsome than what he had been back in school ( _though, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she always found his pale skin and white-blond hair to be beautiful_ ). 

Hermione had no idea what Malfoy was doing in muggle London, of all places, though. Had he always lived there? Was he her _neighbor_? Surely she’d have noticed if he was, considering she had moved into her flat years ago. Maybe he was just visiting? But then again, why would he be buying groceries in a local shop if he wasn’t from the area?

The woman was already putting all the ingredients in her bag when she heard the deafening sounds of a truck’s horn blasting nearby, followed by the irksome screech of brakes and tires sliding in the ice-cold road and finally ending with the disheartened and muted thud of a body being hit and falling to the floor.

She had only heard that series of sounds from dramatic movies before. As it turns out, the sounds are just as alarming in real life as in her beloved dramas.

The few people that were mingling around the shop also heard the sound, and soon they were all running towards it, in a show of morbid curiosity. Hermione felt awful for following the crowd, but it was like her feet had a mind of their own. And when they got to the accident site, she couldn’t quite stop herself from hopping in place and standing on the tip of her toes, trying to peer at what the unfortunate victim looked like.

She gasped in shock a third time that day when she spotted that beautiful shade of white-blond hair stained with blood.

She stopped hopping then.

Her eyes were already welling up with fat tears as she heard the frantic sounds of an ambulance approaching the limp body of the wizard, and she could only imagine the scene of the paramedics accessing Malfoy’s well-being and hurling him into the wagon to take him to the hospital.

Or was it too late? She couldn’t know.

The crowd dispersed when the ambulance drove away, and she could see that the blood in the street was still _fresh_ and _crimson_ and _disgusting_. And there was so much of it, too. She gulped in fear and the tears were now falling freely.

Hermione ran back home, clutching her groceries tightly around her chest and climbing the steps two at a time. 

Her cruel mind was flashing her with pictures of Malfoy through the years.

She saw him as a child smiling proudly as the hat announced he was going to be a Slytherin, much like his father. She remembered how terrified his face was when she suddenly punched him in the nose. She saw him all dressed up and dancing happily along Pansy Parkinson on the Yule Ball. She saw images of him skinny and stressed walking around Hogwarts corridors in Sixth year. And then she saw him looking at her with the most pained and regretful expression on his face as she writhed in pain on the floor of his home.

But there were so many more memories, too. All playing and repeating themselves at the same time in her head. She wanted them to stop! It’s not like she even needed to remember them anyway! He was going to be fine! He was a wizard! It’s not like there aren’t thousands of healing spells out there, right?

_Oh._

Except that he wasn’t really in Wizarding London and he was presently being hauled into a Muggle hospital right now.

And well, it comes as a bitter realization to Hermione that as much as she _loved_ and respected muggle technology and medicine, she’d have to recognize that wizards and witches had a much better chance of surviving and healing from accidents than muggles did because of their magic.

_Magic_. Malfoy was ( _is!_ ) the sole heir of two of the most powerful wizarding families and yet he was buying his groceries at a muggle shop. Why?

Did his family or friends even know he was in the muggle world? Should she… _warn_ them about what happened? Should she go _see_ him at the hospital?

_Where was he going to be buried?_

Hermione violently shook her head, willing those morbid thoughts away. With deep breaths, she wiped her tears away, chucked her groceries in the fridge and prepared some tea to try and calm her nerves. The rest of the day passed in a blur, with more images of Malfoy playing around her head for hours on end.

Her good mood had been ruined. 

She decided she needed to sleep hours earlier than usual, and soon she was passed out on her bed, in a thankfully dreamless slumber.

\-----

She woke up with a headache and stuffy eyes, but decided to get up anyway, hearing the sounds of cars and passersby from the bustling city below. Life goes on. The world still spins, no matter what happens.

Hermione turned the radio on, and felt another bout of tears prickling on her eyes when she heard the same cheery song that played on the radio yesterday. She decided to leave it on anyway, so that she wouldn’t spend her dreadful morning in silence. 

When she opened her fridge, though, she frowned in confusion. Somehow, it was just as empty as the morning before the… _accident_.

Had she misremembered? She was sure she had thrown the groceries there before drinking her tea… Wait, she didn’t wash her dishes last night, so why weren't there any stained teacups in the sink?

She looked around the kitchen, and even the living room, but couldn’t find her groceries anywhere. She tried to accio’ her shopping list and yesterday’s receipt, but nothing went flying towards her hand.

The brunette heard the song from the radio gradually quieting down, just as the commercial break started, soon followed by the same broadcaster’s voice announcing the date and time. 

_Yesterday’s_ date and time to be exact.

Had she gone mad? Or was it like a Groundhog’s Day situation? Well, she was a witch and magic definitely existed in that world ( _she had even messed around with time travel in her past!_ ), so it wasn’t exactly the most unbelievable situation if she woke up the same day as yesterday.

_‘Wait a second...’_ Hermione widened her eyes, as the events of yesterday played inside her head, which made her audibly gasp. “MALFOY!”

She was running out of her apartment, jumping the steps two at a time, and she didn’t even bother to put on her scarf and coat, ignoring the violent cold air that enveloped her and the curious looks of the other Londoners in the street.

Hermione got closer to the grocery store and ignored the happy greeting the shop’s clerk gave her through the glass. Her eyes were glued to the door that was suddenly opening up, letting a tall, pale and broody figure out of the store.

“Malfoy!” She called out for him, making him look up and raise a confused eyebrow at her.

“Granger?” He said simply, with his mercurial eyes clearly analyzing her disheveled figure. 

And the witch was sure she must be looking like a mess. She probably had her wild hair even frizzier and wilder than it had ever been back in school, her simple cotton dress was probably a wrinkled mess, and her bare arms must be looking drier because of the biting cold and her eyes were still red and stuffy from all the hours she had spent crying yesterday _(or was it today?_ ). 

And yet she could stop smiling broadly at the sight of Malfoy looking so _alive_. Yet, very confused, too. And maybe a little scared of her manic grin? 

Gods, how long had she been just standing there, silently looking and smiling at him?

He looked around her, as if he was trying to see if anyone else was around, but there was no one. Malfoy shrugged his shoulders without a word, and stepped to the side to pass her and probably carry on his day ( _because he had no idea what was going to happen_ ). She panicked, and grabbed his arm, much to his surprise.

“Granger! What the hell do you want?”

Well, she hadn’t really planned that far ahead. Might as well wing it.

“Sorry! It’s just-” She started, biting her lower lip, trying to think what else to say. “It’s crazy to see you here! I haven’t seen you in years!”

“Well, we’re not exactly best friends, are we?” He rolled his eyes, trying once again to move out of her way, but Hermione still had a tight grip on his arm.

“Do you live here? In muggle London?”

“Why would you care?”

“I just think it’s fascinating to see you so at ease among muggles!” The witch was surprised to notice she wasn’t even lying. And her smile was also sincere when she added. “And look at you! Wearing muggle clothes and buying groceries by yourself! No House Elves to order around anymore?”

He scowled at her. In retrospect, that wasn’t the most tactful thing for her to say.

Malfoy shook his arm, breaking her hold, and started to stomp his way through the cold streets, and Hermione ran towards him, stopping him on his once again. “Can’t you just leave me alone, you annoying witch?”

“I’m sorry! I’m really just really surprised to see you here!” She was biting her lips again, and looking at him with her best attempt of ‘ _puppy eyes_ ’ as she could. 

“Yes, Granger. I live in muggle London, in a flat nearby.” He sighed in defeat. “And no, I don’t have any house elves to do whatever I please.”

Her eyes shone in excitement and curiosity. So Malfoy really was her neighbor! How strangely fascinating.

“Do your parents or your friends know where you live?” She blurted out the question, surprised at her apparent lack of filter that morning. He looked completely aggravated by her prodding questions, but this time didn’t try to run away from her hold. 

“No. No one knows I live here. Well, nobody knew until today, at least.” He grumbled under his breath.

The brunette opened her mouth to respond, but then she heard the sound of a heavy truck speeding through the streets near them. She quickly turned her head to confirm that the haunting black truck that she saw yesterday had just passed by them. Hermione made an off comment about the reckless driver that she truly hoped would soon be put in place by police officers and turned to look at the blond man still looking at her. 

_And Malfoy was still standing there._

Alive and breathing and only slightly angry at her. Actually, more bewildered and even a bit curious than anything else, really.

She had done her part. She could let him go now. Everything was going to be okay.

“Do you have any plans for Christmas?” She asked him instead. No filter at all.

“Yes.” He grunted at her, and frowned when she kept looking at him. “I’ll spend Christmas alone, Granger.”

“You can’t!” She gasped.

“I can, actually. It’s easier than it seems. I just need to _not_ get out of the house.” She ignored his mirthless chuckle to glare at him instead, stomping her foot with determination. 

“Come to dinner with me.” This time, she meant to ask him that, and she was amused by the way he smirked, instead of just glaring at her, so she insisted “Tonight, I mean.”

“Why are you suddenly asking me out, now?”

Hermione thought for a second, reflecting upon everything that went through her mind when she thought the man had died an untimely death. From her memories of him back at Hogwarts to her worries about the details of his burial. She had been so affected ( _and frankly wrecked_ ) by it, even though she thought that Malfoy meant nothing for her. 

Hell, the witch wasn’t even aware he was still alive in the first place until she stumbled upon him in the grocery shop. And then she _heard_ him being hit by a truck and suddenly she couldn’t help but wonder why on Earth had destiny decided to reunite these two people, only to take one of them away so suddenly.

And then she went back in time! Apparently to save him! And she did! ( _Or perhaps not. Merlin knows what she’ll do if she wakes up the same day as yesterday. What if she hadn’t broken the cycle after all?_ )

“Let’s say I believe in destiny.” Was the answer she decided to go for. 

She shot him a flirty smile, even though she wasn’t really trying to make a move on him ( _Well, at least that’s what the stubborn part of her brain was trying to yell at her_ ), and Malfoy grinned at her, in return, with a curt nod.

“It’s a date then.” He said simply, and she was actually stunned to realize that they spent a few more minutes quickly arranging a time and place for their impromptu date.

\-----

She woke up the next morning, with a smile on her face and memories of her date with… _Draco_. 

They had gone to a small Italian restaurant that she liked to go to every once in a while and they had spent hours just talking and catching up with each other’s lives. 

Draco told her of his new experiences in the muggle world, how he wanted to get away from his stifling past and how much he appreciated _life_ in general and how he didn’t take things for granted anymore.

Hermione told him about her job and friends and how she was still working out a way to bring her parents’ memories back. And then, at his request, she spoke of her childhood in a muggle home and compared it to his childhood as a pureblood wizard. They weren’t that different, as it turns out.

She didn’t tell him about what happened, though. She felt like she should just consider that he had never been hit by a truck in the first place.

Draco asked her for a dance, and Hermione eagerly accepted. Then they danced together for another song, and another to boot. Some of the staff in the restaurant, friends of the brunette, cheered playfully at them, as the blond wizard whisked her away from there with a light-hearted smile.

They walked out in the night together, appreciating the sights of the yellow streetlights and greyish buildings. Draco told her he found London to be beautiful, and she agreed with him.

She didn’t ask for permission to kiss him, but he returned the kiss with just as much passion. And when they parted to breath in some air again, with goofy smiles plastered on their faces, they decided that they should see each other again.

Draco even agreed to spend Christmas with her. It had been a perfect night, in her opinion.

The brunette hummed in happiness, sprawled on her bed, listening to the birds and car horns outside her window. And she realized she was once again in a good mood, as she turned on the radio to fill the empty flat with the sounds of old muggle songs.

There was a forlorn and sad song playing on the radio now. A different song from yesterday’s peppy beat _._ She listened to it with a smile on her face, and sighed in relief when the broadcaster announced the date and time after the commercial break.

A new day had arrived, and Hermione was still in a good mood.


End file.
